World Falls Away
by Thunder-Nari
Summary: The Alliance turn up on Shadow to give the farming community a hand. AU. SLASH. Mal/Wash.
1. Chapter 1

_**Part One - Mal**_

**Chapter One**

His ma tells him that things are gonna be getting better. She's said it before, says it a lot these last few years. This time, he can see the little sparkle in her eyes, the bright grin. Ain't just desperation talking. She knows something and he eyes her.

"Wait and see," she says. "Wait and see. In a few months from now, these fields'll be green again and those cows'll be fat an' happy."

Til then, there's still chores to do, still the branding to get through, so there's no time for sitting around, gazing and thinking on what might be. iIf/i she's right this time. Mal can't think of a reason why she would be. Still can't help but hope. Deep down, he knows that it's all going to be fine again, that things have a way of working around.

Work comes first, though. He mounts his horse and coils his rope, kicking the mare up into a gallop. The other ranch hands are waiting on him down in the pens. They have a good two dozen calves to get through today, the type of hard work that'll work up a good appetite and his ma always cooks the very best meals.

Mal doesn't get down there for more than an hour, roping calves and watching as another hand throws the animal down. Always makes Mal wince just a bit, but it's got to be done. Lots of thieves around on these worlds. A brand's not too big of a deterrent for most, but they do what they can. One man throws the calf and pins him down, another comes in with the red hot brand.

They get six done before there's such a noise his horse spooks under him. Pulls out to the side in a flash. Mal drops his rope but keeps his seat, hands steadying the reins, legs steadying the horse. He pats her neck, muttering 'whoa', as she dances on the spot but eases some.

Mal finally looks to see what caused the disturbance. Calves are scattered everywhere now, trying to get away, and it takes them a second to regroup and press to a corner of the small pen. The ranch hands are looking up and Mal follows their gaze.

Mal's eyes widen as some huge ship descends down from the sky, like Mal's never seen before. Seen 'em in books or heard them described, but never up close like this, even a half mile away. The most they get on Shadow is junkers. Small time smugglers, dealers, crews just stopping over real quick before moving on to more profitable lands. 'Cause they won't stop long enough here to see the planet for what it really is or could be.

Rolling hills and creeks. Mountains off in the distance that Mal can make out peaking on the horizon to the west of their homestead. Large creek runs right through the land, cutting their hundred and sixty acre section in half. The engines from the ship that hovers over one of the fields causes ripples in the easy moving water and the long grass that surrounds it.

Ain't so green in the fields farther off, though. They haven't got the manpower for irrigation and the last few years just keep getting drier. Even the creek is half the size it was once.

The ship that hovers in for a landing is sleek, bright silver that glints off the sun and Mal has to squint his eyes. The Alliance insignia is big on the side. He thinks it might be some kind of freighter, a large bulk transport.

"The hell is going on, Mal?" Wally, one of the ranch hands, asks, and Mal looks to see them all staring at him now.

"I dunno..." His voice trails off as he gazes out across the field. "Alliance don't come out here. So guess I'd better find out. Open that gate."

They listen to him and a kick combined with 'haa' has the mare, Sandy, launching into a gallop. He aims to meet whoever comes off that ship. Alliance ain't never had business here before and he knows what his pa used to say. Alliance didn't have a right being here, either. They came and they messed up a man's life, that's all.

Mal pulls Sandy up as he reaches the ship. He gets there in time to see the ramp lower, crushing already half dead grass under it. The engines are shut off and the land goes back to blissful silence. A few birds in the background and soothing bubble of the creek, the clack of a few rocks that get swept down in the current.

Sandy snorts under him and Mal swings his leg around to dismount. One hand holds the reins, the other hovers over the hilt of the gun he carries on him. One his pa used to carry, and now transferred over into Mal's name. It'll do the job if one needs doing. Mal doesn't let harm come near his family, that's one promise made he takes seriously.

There's a few moments where he's just staring up into the black belly of the ship. It makes him nervously want to grip his hand around his gun but he keeps it loose. When someone finally does walk into the light, he tenses, raising the hand that holds the reins to shield his eyes from the sun still striking off the hull of the ship.

"Good morning." The voice that greets him sounds amiable enough. Friendly, even, with a hint of professionalism behind the casual. "This is the Reynolds 'stead is it not?"

"It is," Mal answers. He doesn't relax for a second and he can feel his finger tips brush against the hilt of his gun.

"Ease up, son." The man finally steps on down the ramp, into view, so that Mal can actually make him out. His breath catches a bit. The man is done up in full gear Alliance uniform. Mal's not had any proper schooling but he reads up where he can, uses what his ma taught him. He knows what that patch means, and those stripes. The man in front of him isn't some small time messenger like he'd have thought the Alliance would send around these parts, when they bothered to send anyone.

His eyes widen. "You're a Major."

The Major nods. "Adam Washburne." He waits a polite moment but Mal just stares back at him. The Major's eyebrows lift. "Your name, son?"

"Mal. Ain't your son either, so it's just Mal."

The Major smiles politely but Mal can see the first traces of annoyance. Mal jumps at the sudden snap of his ma's voice very near his ear. "Mal! Don't be a brat, child. Show a little respect." She gives an apologetic smile to the Major. "I'm sorry, sir."

The Major tips his head to her. "No worries. I have a son of my own, I know how it is. I brought him with me as a sort of learning experience, in fact." He turns over his shoulder with another of those polite nods. "Hoban? Come down here and meet the Reynolds."

Mal grins a little, he can't help it. It's not just the name. The kid that comes down the ramp embodies the very word rebellion. His hair is spiked up, either put that way purposefully or it hasn't seen a brush in awhile. There's no uniform, just cargo pants and a bright shirt that rivals the glare off the ship's metal. He doesn't walk straight backed, he walks with a slump.

The Major sighs as Hoban steps up next to him with a sunny grin and wave for Mal and his ma. "I know exactly how it is."

His ma, showing manners that Mal is sure he doesn't have and is surprised to see in her, gives Hoban a polite nod. "Honey, why don't you take Hoban down to the house and show him to his room? I made up the one next to yours, he should have everything he needs. Major Washburne and I have things to discuss, I'm sure."

The Major nods. "That we do." He gives Hoban a stern look, speaking quietly but not so much so that Mal can't hear him. "Behave for once." The Major gestures to Mal's ma and the two make their way onto the ship.

Mal watches them, unsure about leaving her alone but, despite his better thinking, the Major seems kind enough. Not to mention his ma knew they were coming, and he's going to have to talk to her about that later. He's distracted from his worry when Hoban speaks up.

"You can call me Wash."

"Wash?"

"Sort of a nickname." Wash grins.

Sandy stamps her foot, impatient while the bugs start to get at her. Mal quiets her again with a hand on her muzzle, but not before Wash can give a quick start back.

"Never been on a horse before?"

Wash looks wide eyed. "Never even been near one."

Mal chuckles. "We'll walk then. Maybe you can tell me what you're doing here."

They head off back to the barn and Wash happily fills Mal in on everything he knows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Mal learns pretty quick that Wash can talk. He talks the whole way back to the barn, while Mal pulls the saddle off Sandy's back, and as he brushes away the marks the girth has left behind.

Through it all, Mal learns a little about why the Alliance are here.

Seems the Alliance are seeing fit to lend a hand to the outer planets. He's not sure if his ma contacted them. He can't believe she wouldn't have told him. Pa would have been furious. They don't need Alliance help, they'd been getting by just fine on their own since this planet had been settled. Sure, there were tough years, but they got through them and eventually the crops were good again.

Maybe this time is the exception, though. Shadow is pretty sparsely populated. Majority of it farmers, agriculture. There's some mining in the mountains, but they don't dredge up too much, not enough to really bring people in. The last few years had been bad. Ever since his pa died really. Mal isn't one for superstition most times but there'd been a run of bad luck, starting with his death.

Maybe the Alliance was the last way they could go. His ma had always said there was nothing wrong in asking for help when it was needed. His pa always said a person didn't give something for nothing.

So what did the Alliance want?

Wash says nothing or if it they do, then he doesn't know what. His dad didn't see fit to tell him most things, Wash tells Mal in his stream of chatter. A lot he only knows because he eavesdrops. The kid is a troublemaker, no doubt about that. It doesn't take much rambling for Mal to get the hint that he doesn't care for his dad, that there's not much love lost between them.

Eventually, Mal leaves Wash to settle into his room and goes to find his ma. She's sitting in the kitchen by this point, nursing a cup of tea with a content little smile on her face. It widens some when she sees him and he follows her gesture to take up a seat for himself.

"Things are finally going to get better, honey."

"Pa wouldn't approve," Mal immediately objects. The man isn't here, someone needs to speak for him.

She snorts. "No harm asking for help. Besides, which, they asked me if we needed it. Ain't no harm in admitting to that, neither."

"I know." He's just not so keen on believing they're so far gone as to need it. "What're they gonna do?"

"They got workers for us, gonna dig those irrigation ditches we've been needing. And a well. Gonna drill straight down so we don't gotta rely on that creek. Won't have to haul so much water in the winter for the animals. Gonna be doing all the farms round here, but we're the oldest so they're doing us first. They even got some tech fellas that are gonna check out the terraformers, see about...tweaking a few things, was the words he used, get us some rain."

"All sounds good." He still has his misgivings, though, and she pats his hand where it rests on the wood grain table.

"They'll be staying here with us, we got a big enough place for it. Could be a few months. Want you to be on your best behavior with these folks. Don't go lettin' your dad's paranoia get to you."

"Y'know I won't."

"You're a good boy." Her hand squeezes his, weaker than it used to be.

"Ma... Why are you really doing this? Y' know the weather will turn again, it always does. We'd be fine."

She stares ahead for long moments, silent and considering. Mal lets her be, he knows not to rush her when she's getting ready to come out with something.

"I ain't gonna be here forever, boy. Gotta get things set up for you to take over. Don't want you havin' a hard time of it like we did."

"Ma..."

She pats his hand again. "Don't argue about it. Get up an' help me make dinner."

* * *

The Major and his son join them for dinner. Most of the ranch hands eat out in the workers house. They have their own fully stocked kitchen, though more often than not his ma cooks for them as well. She's older now, not a lot else she can do, and she needs to feel like she's helping out. Keeping their bellies as full as she can, keeps up spirits and makes for a happy household.

The Major compliments her cooking and Mal thinks he means it, if the way he digs in is any indication. Wash looks the same, the smile he wears just brightening as he bites into the beef steak on his plate.

"Won't find fresher meat, no sirs."

Mal grins subtly at the way the Major goes a little green. They know it's fresh because it's a cow off their own farm, butchered just a week ago. He digs into his own food as well. It's silent for awhile and not so awkward as Mal might have feared. They're too busy eating to bother talking. Mal's busy trying to hold his tongue, but he doesn't see why a harmlessly curious question can't be asked. He washes down a mouthful with a drink of water and clears his throat to get their attention.

"Is Shadow the only Rim planet you folks are helpin'?" It would be a harmless question if he didn't have a slight sneer to his tone. He's had it drilled into his head too much by his pa, Alliance ain't much good 'cept to get in a man's way.

"Mal..."

The Major raises a hand to still his ma's chastisement of him. Mal doesn't much care for the way she listens to it. Woman never even listened to her husband half the time, not like that, like she's obeying. "It's a fine question."

The Major looks directly at Mal, who doesn't flinch away. He bets the Major isn't used to that, but Mal feels no need to be intimidated because of someone's position. "We're trying to help where we can, son. We can only take it one planet at a time."

"Thought you'd be havin' the resources."

His ma kicks him hard under the table and he jerks his knee up. It rattles the glasses and the Major just gives him a patient smile.

"We don't like to spread them thin."

"Mal." His ma cuts in with a finality that says Mal listens or he goes out and cuts his own switch for her. He looks to her. "Tomorrow you can take Hoban into town, show him some of the sights. If he'd like that." She looks to both the Major and Wash.

"I'd like it." Wash looks to his dad for permission as well. He might be acting rebellious, but Mal thinks he'd defer to his dad if push came to shove. The rest of it is just an act.

* * *

He washes up after dinner while his ma heads for an early night. The Major heads to his given room as well. Mal knows because he watches from the corner of his eye until the Major's door shuts. He's a little surprised when Wash is at his side. He'd almost forgotten the other boy and thought he was on his own in the kitchen. He's even more surprised when Wash picks up a dry clean towel and starts helping.

"Don't have to do that."

Wash shrugs. "There's nothing better to do." They clean and dry a few dishes between them before Wash speaks again. "You're really not one for the Alliance. Or just my dad, in which case I don't blame you."

"The Alliance ain't never helped us before," he snaps out before he can think on hurting Wash's feelings and goes on quieter. "My pa never liked them much. Guess it's passed on some."

"Where is he now?"

He shouldn't tense. He knows that it's an innocent question. Stupid, maybe, but still innocent. Wash isn't meaning to bring up memories that are still too fresh for being years old. "An accident." He doesn't really need to go on.

Wash's eyes widen and he goes demurely back to drying a plate. "Sorry."

Mal shrugs. "Ought to head for bed. Got an early morning, tomorrow. Takes a good hour ride to get to town."

"Ride as in...?"

Mal grins at him. "Horses, boy, what did y' think?" This could turn out to be fun, playing with the kid's head a bit. Wash looks freaked out.

"Oh. I was thinking I could fly us. Take less time."

Mal claps his hand over Wash's shoulder and it nearly stumbles him forward. Wash isn't in the greatest of shape, he's definitely not going to be toned muscle the way Mal is from working on the ranch in the hot sun all day. He's pale, too, Mal finally notices. It'll do him good to get out in the sun a bit. Get a real good look at just what him and his dad are here to save.

"I'll show you the ropes. Set your alarm for six."

Wash gives him a stiff salute that Mal catches just before he turns to head for bed himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Mal sets his own alarm for five, he's got a few chores to do before he and Wash can be heading off anywhere. True, he could hand them off to one of the ranch hands but he likes to get out in the morning air. Soft breeze and birds everywhere. The horses all nicker to him when he goes into the barn to feed them. They recognize him by sight and he can't help a little ego boost that maybe it's just him they're happy to see and not the hay.

By five thirty, the sun is already casting light everywhere. The ranch hands have been up since four but even Mal's not quite that committed. His ma won't be up 'til seven, so he just makes a quick breakfast for him and Wash. When Wash ain't up by ten after six, he goes around to bang on his door.

He hears a muffled something from inside and knocks again.

span title "screw you""Qù ni māde!"/span

Now that makes him grin. Mal's sure it's not very Alliance of Wash to be swearing at his hosts, but all that does is make Mal like him a bit more. Mal opens the door enough to stick his head in. Wash has the blinds drawn but light still manages to find its way between the cracks. He can make out Wash's wild hair poking out from under the blanket and grins a little more.

"Gotta get up if you want breakfast, Wash. Foods on the table an' I ain't plannin' on leaving it out. Get up, we've places to be today."

He hears the loud sigh that says Wash is awake and, after a minute of patient waiting, Wash sits up, covers falling down to his waist. The first thing that crosses Mal's mind is that Wash is in better shape than he thought. He can see the clear definition of Wash's chest and maybe he's a little soft at the belly but there's still definite muscle there. The second thing Mal realizes is that Wash must sleep naked.

He rolls his eyes, having to force his gaze up to take in the drowsy confused look Wash is giving him. "I'll be in the kitchen," he says and beats a retreat out to the hall.

He makes them coffee and sits to sip at his own. It's still another fifteen minutes before Wash stumbles out of his room and Mal greets him. "Must take quite a bit of effort to get that unkempt look just right, I'm guessin'."

"You've no idea." Wash's eyes fasten on the steaming pot like it's a homing beacon. "Is that coffee?"

Mal nods. "Help yourself. There's oatmeal in that pot as well, bowls are in the cupboard just above you."

Mal notices that he seems to make himself at home pretty easily as Wash goes about getting together what he needs. Coffee and bowl of oatmeal in hand a moment later, he joins Mal at the table and looks like he might fall back asleep in his breakfast.

"You always get up so early?"

"You'll wake up once we get outside," Mal guarantees.

Wash yawns, covering it by lifting the coffee mug and taking a sip once he's done. "They wake us up earlier for flight training. Four in the morning. I never did take to mornings too well, though."

"You a pilot?" No wonder he'd rather fly them in and Mal can bet they have some small sleek craft stored away in the transport ship. Ain't no way, though, Mal prefers a horse. Real life thing that'll carry you out of danger if it likes you well enough.

Wash nods eagerly. Mal thinks it's the first time he's shown real enthusiasm towards anything Alliance or related to his dad. "Yeah. In training for it anyway. It's still a few more years and I'll have my license. Take you for a spin some time if you want." Mal shakes his head but Wash interrupts the protest with one of his own. "Ah ah, if I'm getting drug on a horse then you're doing this. Fair's fair."

Mal laughs. "You're on, pilot."

Wash finishes his breakfast a few minutes later and dumps his dishes in the sink. They talk for the few minutes it takes him, and Mal finds it more comfortable than he would have thought. It helps that Wash holds up the majority of the conversation on his own, but Mal doesn't normally find himself one for useless chatter. On the ranch there's always something to do, he doesn't often have the time to discuss nothing. Wash is good at it, though, and keeps it up as they shove boots on their feet and Mal leads him out to the barn.

The horses don't nicker this time, still busy with the morning feed. Mal grabs a halter off one of the hooks hanging inside the door and moves over to a black gelding, so old he's graying and the perfect sort of mount for a beginner. He usually saves Ben for kids to ride. Mal thinks he'll be even more perfect for Wash, who's looking at the animal like it might come over and bite him.

Mal motions him over. "Can't stand back there. C'mere. Hold your hand out, flat like this." He shows Wash and, once Wash has copied, pours a little pile of oats onto his palm. The horse is eager to stretch his neck out and eat the treats from Wash's hand.

"Okay. Yeah, I can do this." Wash even strokes Ben's nose once the oats are gone.

Mal is satisfied with that and opens the stall door to step inside. The halter is fastened around the horse's head, and Wash steps back as Mal leads the horse out. He shows Wash how to brush Ben and, by the end of that, Wash is looking considerably more comfortable. Mal is doubly amused when Wash starts talking to Ben while Mal fetches Sandy.

"You're not so tough. You're not so tough, I could take you. Like that, huh?" Wash is scratching at the horse's withers. "You're like a big dog."

Mal comes over with the saddle. "Glad you two are getting along."

Wash steps back, nodding. "Yeah. We go way back, actually."

"Right, bet you used to have beers down at the tavern." Mal throws the saddle over Ben's back and starts cinching up the girth.

"You have a tavern here?" Wash looks hopeful for a moment but Mal shoots it down with a grin.

"Which we're too young to even get into."

Wash's face falls but only for a moment before he's shrugging. "Oh. Well... What's that?"

Mal goes through the motions of explaining the bridle to Wash. How to make the horse go, to turn, to stop. And don't worry Ben really is like a big dog, he wouldn't steer anyone wrong. Five year old kids ride this horse no problem.

The platitudes don't seem to mean much when he finally gets Wash on the horse and the kid won't let go of the saddle's horn. Mal's laughing at him again as he mounts Sandy and pulls her around to head towards the driveway, and after ten minutes they'll be out onto the road.

Mal keeps an eye on Wash as he sits rigidly on top of Ben. The horse does nothing more than plod along and, once Wash realizes this, he relaxes some with a long breath of air.

"Right. Big dog."

"Nothing to worry about."

It takes a minute but Wash seems to decide that Mal is right because he relaxes fully, even pries his fingers off the saddle horn and looks across at Mal. He nods a bit then looks around, taking in the scenery and Mal feels a bit of pride at how is eyes go a touch wider.

"Pretty, ain't it?"

"Yeah. Don't see scenery like this on Londinium, for sure. It's mostly...tall buildings. No mountains, at least not that I've ever seen. Not so much green, either."

They ride on in silence, and Mal finds himself watching Wash a little more than the scenery he's seen a million times before.

* * *

The town isn't a huge one. There's a couple restaurants, a feed store, clothing and general store. There's the tavern and a small market place. The closest city is Blackie, a good three hour horse ride from here. Mal doesn't visit it too often and here has everything they generally need.

They tie their horses and dismount, Wash wincing as his feet hit the ground. "I think I pulled muscles I didn't know I had."

Mal snorts. They're already turning a few heads of the locals. Rather, Wash is. He stands out as someone new, not to mention his shirt and pale skin. He's definitely an oddity in this town, but Mal reckons by now everyone knows that the Alliance have landed at the Reynolds' farm. News travels fast in a place where there's not a lot of it to occupy attention.

Wash is looking around, a little lost and a little amazed. Mal can't start to think on how different it must be. He's never been off Shadow but he's done his research. He knows what it looks like on a place like Londinium, and he knows he'd be feeling out of place if he were in Wash's shoes. He slips his arm around the kid's shoulders, making Wash jump, as he guides Wash off the beaten road and onto the wooden walkways. Boards on top of the dirt, mostly there to keep from getting feet muddy when the sky graces them with a bit of rain.

"I stick out a bit, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do." Mal chuckles. "People will be spreading rumors all through the town now."

"So long as they're good ones."

Wash is easy to banter with, too. Pokes fun at his own self which Mal can appreciate. They walk along the line of buildings, Mal forgetting to think that he should be taking his arm away from Wash's shoulders. Feels kind of good and there is definitely strength to those shoulders he really wouldn't have expected. He can feel the muscles shift when Wash points out one thing or another, asking questions.

They go in a couple places. Mal drags Wash into the clothing store, telling him that if he's gonna be sticking around a few months with his dad then he really should look the part. Which means jeans and work shirt. Wash goes along, they're in no hurry to get back, and Mal is taking this as a sort of day off. Tomorrow, it'll be back to branding cattle.

He manages to talk Wash into buying a couple things, loose fitting jeans, less gaudy shirt, a pair of boots that will work better in the saddle's stirrups. They get it all bundled up to fit into the saddlebags on Wash's horse.

Further down and they hit the small market. Mostly produce, a few homemade things. There's one that sells chocolate, imported every so often and rare enough here that Mal can never afford the prices they're asking. Today, though, he's got Wash and the man buys a bit, happy to share with Mal.

Mal thinks he gets sugar maybe once a year, if even that. It's like a bit of heaven melting on his tongue, and he lets the whole chunk Wash gave him melt without biting into it. Savors it. Not like Wash who munches it up in a heartbeat. No, fine things need to be savored.

Wash is laughing at him. "Ever planning on swallowing that thing?"

Mal shakes his head, raising his eyebrows since his mouth is full.

"Maybe I oughta help with it a bit, then."

Mal nearly chokes on the chocolate with what happens next. He's pulled up against Wash's body and his mind flashes back to seeing the kid's chest earlier. He can feel it against his now. More than that, he can feel Wash's breath on his lips and a second later, Wash's smart mouth on his. Wash's tongue slicking into his mouth, scooping up some of the melted chocolate that sits on Mal's tongue, while Mal is slack-jawed in shock.

Mal thinks it lasts about ten seconds. It feels a lot more like ten years. Time is relative, but Mal doesn't know how a small act can stretch out so long. As Wash pulls back, licking at his lips, Mal can't help but glance around, wondering if anyone saw that.

"No one's watching," Wash reassures him. They're in behind one of the stalls and Mal realizes belatedly that he's still pressed up against Wash, that his hands have somehow splayed over Wash's chest. He pushes abruptly against Wash to get away, taking a stumbling step back.

"You...uh..."

Wash bites at his lip a bit, but he's still smiling and he doesn't look at all worried. "Sorry. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Wha..." Mal tries, but he can't make the words work. He has no clue what he's trying to say and he doesn't know...what he should do now. Kiss Wash again? His lips seem to think that would be a good idea. He shakes his head, rubbing the taste of chocolate from his tongue against the roof of his mouth, before stepping carefully around Wash. "It's late. Best be getting back."

Wash's fingers are hard around his elbow. "Mal. I didn't mean to freak you out. If I thought wrong..." Wash leaves it hanging for Mal to explain how he'd like. The only problem is he's not sure what he'd like.

He pauses then steps out of Wash's grip. "Gotta get the horses back. Dinner's soon."

Wash lets him go this time and Mal's grateful. He doesn't look back as Wash trails along behind him and, when they get to the horses, they mount up and head off in silence.

* * *

He stays awake half the night thinking about it. It's not that it's the first time he's been kissed, never mind that it iis/i only the second time he's been kissed. He's had ladies proposition him before, but he's always turned them down. He's too busy on the ranch, 'specially in these last few years, and he ain't got time for romancing.

He remembers one girl, Lucy Chauncer was her name, and she had planted one on him a lot like Wash had. Only he hadn't given her more than a second before stepping away. Sure not enough time to get her tongue in his mouth, and he wasn't gripping at iher/i chest. He was politely explaining and turning her attentions off him. He wasn't stuttering and blank-minded like he had been with Wash. That had been his first kiss, the whole second of it that there was.

He decides it was just surprise. He'd been shocked into freezing but next time, if there is a next time, he'll be able to sidestep and tell Wash exactly why he isn't into that.

Why he isn't at all into being pulled against a hard chest or kissed with chapped lips. He doesn't need to remember the taste of chocolate in his and Wash's mouths. Doesn't need to remember how sweet it was, how Wash's breath tangling with his own had smelled of that sweet. Now he thinks back, he can remember Wash's fingers curling around his biceps, a surprising amount of strength there, too. He supposes pilots have to have strong fingers, though, lots of work with the stick. They'd need good hands. Talented.

span title "god"Tiān a/span. He looks down to where his boxers and the thin sheet covering him have tented. He groans in frustration and turns onto his side. Ignore it until it goes away, then the thoughts will fade as well and he can get to sleep. Forget whatever the hell it is he's thinking.

He falls asleep with his stomach tied in knots at the thought of having to see Wash again in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Mal wakes up at five again, sneaking out of his room and even looking both ways along the hall. He pauses briefly outside Wash's room, but he can pick up the sound of a soft snore and relaxes with the knowledge that Wash is still in bed. He has more than enough time to down a bit of breakfast and get out to the branding pens. A bit of hard work will stop his mind turning in circles.

He goes through his usual roster of duties. The other ranch hands are around now; they all know what to do without being told but Mal rounds up the few of them that help with the branding anyway, to tell them they're going to get through the last of the calves today.

Once he's got Sandy out and they're doing the work, his mind shuts off to only the job. He doesn't even realize how much time's been going by until the sun is up bright and hot in the sky, another blazing day and he can feel the sweat pricking along his back.

It's not until late morning that he tells the ranch hands to take a break for an hour, have some lunch, sit in the shade. He looks around him before swinging off Sandy and taking her over for a drink as well. The Alliance still haven't started what they came here for, he notices. They have a lot of planning and legal work to fix up first, can't do anything better than slow.

He kicks himself mentally. He's gotta stop thinking like that. Pa could have been wrong, wasn't like the man had any personal experience that Mal knows of. Ma will be angry if he doesn't give these people a chance and, though he hates to admit to it, maybe they do need a bit of help. Or maybe he just wants to think that if the Alliance aren't that bad then Wash can't be bad, either.

Ten minutes off the horse and not working and he's already thinking on the man.

He leaves Sandy tied by the watering trough, set to go inside where it's a might cooler and get a drink, maybe find out if his ma's made up some lemonade. The thought that Wash could be in there sipping that lemonade stops him, though, and the water from the trough is as cold as anything, anyway. He cups his hands in it and splashes it up into his face, wet fingers running through his hair.

"Hey." The soft almost inquiry, makes him bolt forward with an unmanly cry. He turns back around, eyes staring wide at an innocent-looking Wash. Would be innocent-looking if he wasn't obviously trying so hard not to laugh. "Sorry."

Mal lets out a hard breath before glaring. "The hell are you doing? Sneakin' up on a man with a gun?"

Wash raises his hands. "I wasn't sneaking up, you just weren't paying attention."

Mal thinks Wash might be getting a bit of a tan and immediately looks away, masking the sudden discomfort by grabbing hold of Sandy's reins to untie her. He can't ignore the man when Wash is suddenly pressing up against his back, though, strong hands sliding over his hips and turning Mal to face him. Mal can feel the rough edge of the trough pressing into the middle of his back.

"Wash..." His breath's got no business coming out that husky. Wash doesn't make any moves to either back off or advance and Mal isn't sure how to react to the stillness. "I doubt this is an appropriate way for an Alliance boy to be actin'."n'."

Wash shrugs and gives Mal an almost coy smile. It makes Mal's knees go a little weak, and he's gotta be entirely transparent, because that's the moment Wash picks to lean into him a little more.

"Thinkin' daddy wouldn't be too pleased."

"Daddy can go to hell." Wash says it with a grin so Mal doesn't really believe it.

"Wash," Mal tries to warn again but he doesn't really believe that either.

"Mal," Wash returns and he's still not making any move, other than holding Mal's hips and staying pressed in too close. He's still grinning, pink of his tongue peeking through his lips a little, and Mal thinks he knows the perfect way to wipe that look off his face. The smug one that says Wash knows Mal isn't wanting to move away from this, as if Wash knows him all so well after less than two days.

"You're wanting to end up in that trough, son, you don't step back a pace."

Wash laughs, a noise that's cut off into a wheeze of breath as Mal grabs him, shoulders the kid and tosses him up and over with a splash and hard thunk into the water trough. Wash comes up gasping, hands grasping at the edges of the trough to pull himself out, but Mal's hand is pinning him down by the chest.

"Son of a bitch, Mal! Are you crazy?" Wash rants while one leg kicks out and hooks over the side of the trough.

On second thought, it may not have been the best idea to dump Wash in a tub of cold water. He's wearing a pair of the jeans they picked out yesterday and the heavy denim molds to the shape of his leg. His hair plasters down to his forehead. His shirt clings to the chest that Mal's starting to form a fair amount of obsession with. Which brings the awareness that he's still got his hand pressed down against that chest and Wash is still gasping for breath after the chilling shock of the water.

"Think I might be."

His hand presses a little more, not trying to dunk Wash back under, but Wash tenses and braces against the hold anyway. He relaxes again when Mal slides his hand over smooth muscles. Smooth until he hits the bump of Wash's nipple, and rubs his palm over it, making Wash close his eyes with a gasp that's not about the cold water.

"Mal."

He's definitely crazy when he curls his other hand around the back of Wash's neck and pulls Wash up as he leans down to meet him in a kiss. Different than the one Wash dropped on him yesterday. Mal has time to appreciate this one and he ain't pulling back after ten seconds. And it's his tongue invading Wash's mouth when Wash gasps. Not as sweet this time, he can taste the water Wash swallowed when he went down.

Wash is the one taking a few seconds to respond this time, but when he does, Mal can feel Wash's hand gripping and sliding up his arm. He can feel Wash's mouth sliding against his own, Wash's tongue there and pressing.

Mal is still the one to jerk back first. They're both panting for breath, staring at each other in a kind of dazed shock. Mal's not even sure what stopped him until he can hear his ma's voice calling him in the distance, over by the house.

He half stumbles back from Wash, glad Wash is apparently feeling weak enough that his fingers slip away from Mal's arm. Mal looks to the house, back to Wash; his mouth works, but it takes him a second to get the words out. "I gotta..." He thinks he should apologize as Wash elbows himself up in the water. Instead, he gets a little caught with the way the water laps around Wash's biceps and those look stronger than Mal would have originally guessed at, too.

He needs to stop acting like some young span title "idiot/fool"bèn dàn/span.

He shakes his head from the sight, grabs hold of Sandy's reins and swings up onto her. He looks back at Wash just once before taking off in a dead gallop towards the house.

* * *

His ma wants him to take the fine Alliance folk around the farm. The ranch hands have already marked out where the irrigation ditches are supposed to go, even got them started sometime last year, just never had the time or free manpower to keep going. Now they have it, Mal just has to show them where the ditches are and tell them what they want done.

It ruins his plans of cattle branding, but it also gives him an even better distraction from Wash. He can't think about feeling the man against him when Wash's dad is right beside him, asking questions and looking stern behind the easy-going mask he's wearing. Maybe Wash's rebellion is rubbing off on him a bit because Mal just can't make himself be anything but distantly polite to the Major.

By the time they're done, and Mal has shown them all the key spots - having to listen to the Major go on about high-tech Alliance equipment that would have had the job done in a third of the time - it's growing dark and Mal is exhausted. He's only had a quick break to eat, making lunch for himself and the Major, but that was hours ago and now it's way past dinner.

The horses come first, though, and he moves to the barn. The Major, and the two men he'd brought with him, dismount and leave the work for Mal. Like he's a common stable hand, but Mal bites his tongue as he sets to getting the horses groomed and back in their stalls. The Major says he's missed riding horses, nice to get back up on them, since he used to go a lot as a kid. Mal bets the Major never took care of his own animal back then, either.

He pats Sandy's neck, listening to the rumble of her belly. "Yeah. 'M hungry, too. Get you set up in just a few minutes."

"Glad I'm not the only one that talks to them."

This time, Mal hides his startle at the sudden sound of Wash's voice. He glances to the man from the corner of his eye, before going back to pulling the saddle from the horse's back. "You're gettin' a little too good at that."

Wash's eyebrows lift. "What, the sneaking up? You're just preoccupied. Want some help?"

Mal snorts, moving with the saddle to shove it onto one of the stands. "You even know what to do?"

"I'm a fast learner."

"I think I got it covered." He moves on to unsaddling the last horse.

Wash sighs, soft enough though Mal can still hear it, and he wonders if there's some genuine hurt in there. "You're acting like aspan title "jerk/bastard"hún dàn/span, Mal."

Mal looks over to where Wash is standing, just inside the entrance to the barn. He runs his hand through his hair. He should be telling Wash to head back to the house, Mal can have this done within twenty minutes on his own. Wash looks eager though, wanting to help, and Mal puts his own mood down to a hard day.

"You can put food in for them. Hay's over there. This much." He shows with his hands apart and Wash grins before moving to do as he's told. "There's a hose there, too, fill up their buckets."

They work in silence for a few minutes. Mal brushes the horses out and Wash stumbles over his own feet a few times. Mal's waiting for it to come, and once the last horse is in and every one is taken care of, it does. Only it's him that does it, starts up the contact by touching Wash's arm. Just meant it to get Wash's attention while the man was talking again to Ben or Big Dog, as Wash has taken to calling him. Mal's hand slides down though, fingers hook in the cuff of the shirt Wash is wearing, changed from earlier, another piece of clothing that they'd bought the day before.

Wash turns to him and Mal must be closer than he'd thought because their clothes are brushing together and, a second later, their mouths are brushing together as well. Mal forgets he's had a long day, forgets he's hungry. Forgets that just yesterday the whole idea of this made him uncomfortable. He nudges Wash back against Big Dog's stall door, sliding his hand back up Wash's arm.

The kiss is different again. It's a surprise but not, it's almost stuttered and, Mal hesitates to think, romantic. They're in a barn with horses...it's definitely not romantic. There's no urgency though; Wash's lips brush against his own, pull away and come right back. He leans against the door behind him, his hand holds Mal's waist and the other runs over Mal's chest.

Mal thinks it must be awhile, but he's lost track of time again, before Wash's mouth even closes over his properly and Wash's tongue is teasing between his lips. It makes Mal moan, a noise he thinks should be embarrassing, but Wash must like it since his hand tightens over Mal's waist. Wash gives one of his own when Mal presses forward against him, rests his hips against Wash's so that Wash's thighs part and Mal's leg is somehow between them.

"Oh God..." Mal breathes when they part. They've gotten pressed close enough that each breath brings their chests to rub together.

Wash chuckles and somehow, both of Wash's hands have got around to pressing against Mal's back. He runs them down, until his fingers are splaying out against the swell of Mal's backside. Mal moans softly again and drops his head forward, his lips finding Wash's neck to run along the column of his throat.

Wash's hands slide further, cupping and rocking Mal's hips forward. Bringing up another reaction, one that curls low in Mal's belly, one he can feel echoing through Wash when he rubs his thigh up between Wash's legs. Wash's cheek nudges against his head, breathless "Mal" bringing Mal's lips back up to cover Wash's again. Silence the little noises Wash has started to make as he rocks them together.

"Mal... Mal, wait," Wash talks against the kiss, his hands leaving Mal's rear and pushing lightly at his shoulders. Mal feels a rush of irritation at being stopped or paused or whatever Wash is doing. The way Wash grins at him when he pulls back, though, tempers it. "I need to, ah, lie down or something before I fall over."

Mal frowns for a moment. His brain isn't so keen on making sense of anything other than the ache between his legs or the way Wash feels against him. Getting off their feet, though, could be a damn fine idea. His own legs are feeling more than a bit weak, he's leaning most of his weight against Wash and the stall door can't feel comfortable against the man's back.

He looks around for a moment, before pushing off of Wash with a nod. "Yeah. Just..." He trails off and steps away from Wash, grabbing a couple of the clean horse blankets to toss them onto the pile of straw they use for bedding. He makes a grand gesture. "Makeshift bed, just for you."

Wash leers at him, pushing off the stall door to advance. "Just for me?"

"Well, maybe-" he cuts off when Wash is on him again, mouth taking his and this time it's a lot more like the earlier kiss, with Wash's tongue right in his mouth while Wash pushes him back and down to the blankets. Mal gasps, glad for the cushioning of the straw, even more glad for the blankets laid over it, as he goes down a little too hard and Wash is there on top of him.

His hands cradle the back of Wash's head, their legs tangling together, one looped behind Wash's and the other bent up between the man's thighs. They both moan. Mal has time to think how this is so much better than using his own hand before Wash is pressing his thigh up, encouraging Mal to thrust against the leg pressed between his.

It's the last coherent thought he has until he's gasping, going still and he can feel the heat and stickiness in his jeans. A second later and he can feel it against the leg that's pressed to Wash as the other man follows him over. It's still a long while before either of them can speak in a steady voice, heat cooling off their still-clothed bodies and mess drying in their pants. He's not going to be able to sneak into his room without someone noticing.

He can't help but flush a bit red at the thought, and it doesn't help when Wash's hand touches the side of his face. "Now's not the time to get embarrassed."

Mal glares but can't hold it, not when Wash's hand has slipped down the side of his neck, palm pressed to his skin so that Mal can feel his pulse thump against Wash's hand. Wash's fingers curl to play with the hair at the back of his neck. "Ain't embarrassed." Wash gives a disbelieving look. "Screw you, gorramn purplebelly." Mal shoves at Wash's hip, but it's light and good-natured.

Wash rolls his eyes. "That's romantic."

"That what this is?" Mal jokes, but underneath that he's unsure, curious what Wash is thinking. Curious what he's thinking, too. His hand gives up on trying to provoke Wash and trails along his thigh, instead. "Some kinda romance?"

Wash rolls himself off of Mal and onto his side, propped up on his elbow to keep looking down so Mal doesn't have to lose sight of those blue eyes. Their legs stay tangled and Mal moves with him some to stay close. "I don't know," Wash finally answers.

"Ain't never done this before." And he can say that admitting to that is embarrassing, bringing the red back to his cheeks, not as dark as it wants to be when he forces it away. "You?" He wants Wash to say no, the same time it might be kind of nice if one of them knew sort of what was going on.

"Sure," Wash says then quickly amends. "Once."

Mal leans in to kiss Wash, he doesn't see that there's a lot holding him back now, and Wash accepts it with a smile Mal can feel against his lips. "We should get back to the house, before someone comes out here lookin' an' finds us like this. Not that I'm ashamed of you or nothin'." He grins and his eyes wander down Wash's body. "Not thinkin' our parents'll be too happy, though."

Wash sneers a little but he agrees because he gets up to his feet, brushes some of the straw dust off himself and lends Mal a hand up. "I'm betting you could do just about anything and your mom would be fine with it."

"Probably so." Mal starts the walk back to the house. It's near fully dark outside now, and he can feel the heat of Wash close beside him in the cool of the night. He can't help being pleased that it's probably true. His mom would probably look at him, shake her head and smile. His dad would have had a few things to say about it, on the other hand. Ain't no way his son would ever look twice at some Alliance. Man or woman, didn't matter. Alliance mattered. "Just like I'm betting you're doing this at least partially to piss your old man off."

Wash looks falsely offended. "Not entirely. You had a lot to do with it, too."

They both laugh and, whether Wash means that or not, Mal can't find it in him to take offense. He's still tired and, even if he hadn't been hungry before, he is now. The first thing he does, though, is slip into the bathroom, intent on a shower. Wash heads off to his room, Mal can hear the man whistling to himself down the hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to those of you who have left reviews. The kind words and encouragement mean a lot! Thank you!

Edit: I completely forgot that takes away my scene breaks when I post... Sigh. So...I've gone back to the other chapters and added the breaks. Hopefully that'll be less confusing!

**Chapter Five**

The next morning, Wash is up before him. Mal thinks his eyes almost bug out of his head when he walks out into the kitchen and there's already coffee brewed, and oatmeal steaming. All that plus Wash is sitting at the counter, still looking half-asleep and Mal decides that the spiky mess of hair has just never seen a comb. He doesn't think Wash would have the energy this early to style it into its perfect mess.

"Mornin'," Mal greets Wash, a little on the cautious side, as he pours himself a cup of the coffee. The super strong coffee, apparently, and he makes a face as he chokes a mouthful down. "You're up because..."

"Because I need to learn responsibility and that my actions have consequences," Wash says like he's reciting. He sighs and goes on a little more miserably. "And that I can't actually hijack a million credit ship and expect to get away with it."

A laugh is surprised out of Mal. "You didn't? Actually, I think I entirely believe that you did." He sits next to Wash and snags the bowl of oatmeal that Wash obviously isn't eating. "So this trip's a punishment?"

Wash nods, sullen for another moment before he grins at Mal. "Not much of one, though."

Wash is awake enough to skate his hand from Mal's knee up his thigh, hidden from sight under the table. A fact that doesn't register with Mal when the Major walks on in, his ma right behind, and Mal gives a jerk hard enough to hit the table and knock over Wash's coffee. The cup tips over and sends the coffee spilling across the table, dripping over the edge and right over into Wash's lap. It's Wash's turn to yelp, chair shoved back as he jumps to his feet with a bitten out "Cào!"

"Hoban!" the Major snaps.

Wash bites at his lip and hisses. "Sorry. It's just..." he glares at Mal, "hot."

Mal presses his lips together in an effort not to laugh. "Guess I'm a mite jumpy in the mornin'." His ma's lips quiver like she might start laughing as well.

"You go get changed, child. Mal can clean up his mess." She does give a warm chuckle. Mal only gives a token protesting look, before getting up to grab a damp cloth and mop up the spilled coffee. Wash listens to her, as well, moving out of the room to change.

The Major and his ma sit while Mal cleans the mess. He pours them each coffee while he's standing and the Major comments in a way that makes Mal's dislike for the man solid.

"If only Hoban listened half so well as your boy, Mrs. Reynolds."

Mal's ma only smiles at the Major. "I doubt you got us up so early to trade stories on our boys."

"You insisted on being there when we started our work."

"Just to oversee the start." Mal's ma is still smiling in the face of the Major's derision, subtle as it might be.

Mal excuses himself a few minutes later to follow Wash into his room, tapping lightly and opening the door when Wash calls out for him to enter. He just catches sight of a sliver of skin on Wash's hip as the man pulls up a fresh pair of boxers. Mal shuts the door behind him and fights the new urge to laugh as Wash turns and glares at him.

"You're a real dramatic type of guy, aren't you?"

"Sorry." He's not. Besides which, Wash started it with the inappropriate touching.

"I'm thinking you should kiss it all better." And so Mal doesn't get the wrong idea about which part of him is hurting, Wash gestures with both hands down to his groin.

Mal doesn't hold back the laughter this time. "In your dreams. Ain't getting on my knees for you, boy."

Wash considers that for a moment. "We could lay on the bed if that'd make it easier."

Mal rolls his eyes. There's other places he doesn't mind kissing Wash, though, so he steps forward and closes his mouth over the other man's, even if it is just to stop him talking for a bit, bringing up ideas that make Mal's gut roll with anticipation and nerves.

* * *

They're kept busy for the rest of the day, both of them off doing their assigned chores. Mal finally helps get the rest of the calves branded. Wash spends the day in the fields and, near as Mal can tell, his job is to keep the machines that are digging the irrigation ditches running smooth. Mal watches him from the back of Sandy in between doing his own job.

Even off at a distance, he can see Wash is handy with the tools. Handy, and unafraid to climb all over the large machine tearing up the ground. He can also see that's it got to be hard work because Wash has stripped off his shirt at some point, and Mal can almost imagine the sheen of sweat forming over his shoulders.

They sneak in kisses where they can.

Mal takes Sandy over for a drink and Wash is there ten minutes later. They wait until the ranch hand is gone, Wash splashing water over his face. It runs down in small rivulets along his bare chest. When they're alone, hidden from view behind Sandy, Mal pins Wash against the trough and kisses him.

"You're a rutting tease, Hoban."

Wash grins and teases some more by licking his lips. "I saw you watching, I figured I may as well put on a show for you."

They go on like that through the rest of the day. It's fun. It sends a course of adrenaline through him every time Mal has Wash pressed against him. Not just the arousal that Wash can stir up in him, but the thought that the Major could walk around the corner any second and find out what they've been up to. He likes the idea of pulling one over an Alliance officer's eyes, and with his own son at that.

More than that, he finds he just likes Wash. His pa really would be furious to find out that it's not just kissin' and dry rutting that makes Mal want to seek the pilot-in-training out.

Wash searches him out when they're both done for the day. Dinner's been served and Mal had been thinking on an early night when Wash finds him on the deck. He's been gazing at the Alliance machines that look out of place on their homestead.

For a moment, Wash just stands beside him in silence. Mal is waiting for him to say something but, when he doesn't, he looks across only to meet Wash's grin. Wash grabs hold of his wrist and tugs.

"Come on."

"Come on where?" Mal asks. He balks for a moment before letting Wash drag him off the deck. He thinks they're likely heading back to the barn and, if that's the case, he's not really going to argue. Early night be damned.

But Wash gives him a dangerous grin. "You got me on a horse. Now it's my turn."

Mal's eyes widen when he realizes where he's being hauled off to, across the field and the huge Alliance ship that stands out against the final rays of light that cast dusk over the place. "No. Wash... No way! You're fēng le you think I'm getting on that thing."

They're halfway there and they both know that if Mal really didn't want to go, Wash would be on his back by now, knocked cold or gasping for breath with Mal's boot over his throat. Wash still stops them and looks at Mal seriously.

"Not the ship. The Major would kill me if I touched that ship. But there's something almost as fun inside."

"An' the Major ain't gonna kill you for takin' that?"

"Well, not as much. Please?"

Wash opens his eyes up wide and begging, and Mal rolls his own. It's as good as saying yes and Wash is back to hauling him along, though Mal goes a little more willingly now. There's an officer by the ramp, a guard Mal thinks, as if anyone around here is going to attempt to steal the ship or anything that's inside. It's part of being Alliance, though, paranoid as hell and gotta keep on eye on everything they can. Nothing left out of control.

The officer nods to Wash and lets them up the ramp. Everything in control except Wash, anyway. Mal's surprised when they're let on without questioning.

"Did you bribe him?"

Wash shoves him playfully, but that's not a no, and Mal's thinking that they're both going to get in some real trouble for this. There's also so much real enthusiasm on Wash's face that he can't bring himself to put a stop to it. Wash is damn near bouncing on his heels as he hauls Mal into the belly of the ship.

Mal's never been on a ship before. One of this size, huge cargo ship and they're right in the bay. It's like being in a giant metal cave. Mal could cry out and his voice would echo for an hour. He looks around himself in awe. There's catwalks over them, he guesses that one of them lead up to the bridge and he suddenly wants to see up there, too. Not to mention the rest of it, this is a world he's never experienced before.

Wash's hand snags his shirt and pulls him over to the side of the cargo bay, into the shadows and Mal thinks he's about to get manhandled, but all Wash does is pull a lever that Mal hadn't even noticed. There's the loud clank of machines, chains, something overhead and Mal looks up in time to see the hover vehicle lowering to the deck. It's small, sleek, built for speed and efficiency.

Wash runs his hand over the hull of it. "Sweet, huh?" He opens it to reach in and start it up. Mal is surprised when it doesn't make a noise, except for the quietest hum. Wash unhooks the chains and it floats a few feet above the deck. "After you."

Mal takes a breath and steps up into the vehicle. It's spacious inside, the seats are soft. He shifts over to the passenger side and Wash joins him a second later. It bobs a little under their weight before finding a new equilibrium and steadying. They look across at each other and it's more the look on Wash's face that scares him than being in this thing at all.

"Okay, just take it-" Mal yelps, the hover car jerks forward and pushes him back against the seat while Wash shoves the accelerator forward. The vehicle rockets off the ship, down the ramp and out across the fields, engines kicking up dust behind it.

Wash is laughing like a madman and Mal stares at him.

"Wash, you lost your mind? Tryin' t' get us killed?" Mal barks, his voice gone high-pitched. Wash just looks at him and grins. Mal swears he pushes the hover vehicle to go that much faster. It takes Mal far too long to realize that Wash looks just fine and Mal's entirely alone in his panic. "Yē sū, y' are insane. We get off this thing an' I'm gonna be killing you."

"Maybe I'll never let us off. You'll be stuck on here with me. Can't kill me because then you'd crash."

Mal registers the incline Wash has them on, looking out his window and seeing they're already a good way up by now and Mal hadn't even noticed. "How high you say this thing goes?"

"Goes pretty high."

Oddly enough, Mal finds himself relaxing the higher they get. 'Til he can only just make out his house through the quickly falling dark. He can still see the sunset from up here when Wash levels the hover craft out. Mal jumps when he feels a touch to his thigh and finds that Wash has shifted across to the middle of the long seat. His eyes widen but Wash's fingers cover his lips.

"Auto-pilot, Mal. We're in a mini-ship. A skiff. All the same perks, just doesn't go as high or fast."

"Oh," Mal breathes out and that's really all the reassurance he needs. He turns his head and catches Wash's lips. He can't get tired of kissing Wash, and Wash seems to feel the same about him. Slow, this time. Wash's hand is slow to run along his chest. His tongue is slow to slip into Wash's mouth. He's even slower to pull back. "Think this might be that romance, then."

Wash shrugs, then looks down at the sunset going on ground level, stars showing up above them in the clear sky. "I did set a pretty good mood."

"Might start likin' this thing, if you keep this up."

"I can do even better." Wash near on purrs against Mal's ear, lips that brush sending a shiver through him. He slides his arm around Mal's shoulders, half-turned in the seat so they're facing. His other hand skates down Mal's chest and Mal holds his breath, but Wash doesn't go there. He tugs up Mal's shirt instead and slips his hand under, running fingers teasingly light along Mal's belly.

Mal lets out his breath in a rush that catches when Wash's fingers pluck at hard nipples. "Tease, Wash."

"Yeah." Wash's mouth presses lightly along the side of Mal's neck and Mal tips his head to the side. He doesn't think to touch back, enjoying soaking up the feelings, the shivers and heat, that Wash is instilling in him. All things that overwhelm him, the way Wash has since he stepped off that ship.

When Wash's hand finally wanders back down, working open the fastenings on his jeans and reaching in to palm Mal's cock with a warm hand, Mal groans. He's sure he lasts about a minute after Wash starts working him, but he feels less embarrassed about that when Wash doesn't manage any better as Mal returns the favor.

They stay slumped against each other afterwards. Mal's not sure how far off they are from the farm now, and he doesn't care too much. Wash nuzzles against his neck and he brushes his fingers through Wash's messy hair.

"Still ain't answered my question."

"Hm?"

"'Bout this being some kind of romance."

"Ah." Wash pulls back to look at him and Mal can see he's taking it seriously. "I'm leaving in a few months, you know that. Not to mention we have to keep the whole thing a secret. Do you want it to be?"

"You started it. We have a Cortex link, could give you the wave coordinates." Which is a yes, Mal thinks. Wash thinks the same because he kisses Mal again. Hell, if the man can manage to make him feel weak-kneed sitting down, then why not?

Chinese Translation:  
Cao - fuck  
Ye su - jesus


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

They go through the next month the same way. They get pretty damn good at the sneaking about. They get pretty good at the hanging out in public, too. Wash has a hundred stories about his life or the things he's seen on other planets. He's only been to a few, but it's still more than Mal has. He's never had a reason to go off Shadow, never thought he'd have the need, but Wash gives him that urge. He even learns to love the hover vehicle, and Wash gives Mal a few lessons on how to fly it. They only take it out a couple times after the first, Wash is too paranoid about his dad finding out.

Wash compromises, and Mal teaches him how to ride the officially renamed horse, Big Dog, instead. By the end of the month, Wash is pretty decent. He can fetch the horse and saddle him up, keep up with Mal when Mal gallops Sandy, but he's yet to win a race. Mal doesn't mention it's because Big Dog is too old to go that fast. He thinks about setting Wash up on the young mare Kitty instead but, when he brings it up, Wash is determined to stick by Big Dog's side.

The irrigation ditches get dug after the first couple of weeks and Wash and the other workers move on. Mal misses getting to watch Wash work and get the man distracted from what he should be doing himself. He thinks his ma probably notices a marked increase in his production when Wash is gone to the other farms for most of the day, before he comes back, dirty and tired. Not too tired for Mal, though, and not too tired to sneak his way into Mal's bed in the middle of the night when the rest of the house is quiet.

It only takes one instance of getting caught, though.

Wash is in his room again, two in the morning and he'd tip-toed in an hour ago. They save most of their fooling around for the barn, where parents can't hear them if they get too loud. Here they sleep, strip off because they both learned pretty fast that feeling skin on skin is the most comfortable thing in the 'verse. Wash confirms Mal's belief that he usually sleeps naked anyway.

They're awake this morning, though. An easy day had led to afternoon naps. Wash woke him an hour ago, coming in and climbing into the bed. Neither of them have been asleep since.

Mal trails his fingers over Wash's back and arms. There's a light tan to them by now, but if Mal didn't see him out in the sun everyday then he never would have believed it. Wash burns and goes back to white. There's freckles that show up over his shoulders. Mal takes a bit of pleasure in alternately teasing Wash over them and kissing them.

They talk in soft voices, hardly more than murmurs. Sandy had thrown Mal earlier in the day and Wash is kissing the bruises that formed over his shoulder where Mal had hit the railing.

"Wouldn't catch Big Dog doing that," he informs Mal gravely.

Mal chuckles softly, head falling back against the pillows as Wash's lips take to following the path of his collar bone. His own fingers rub against Wash's shoulder blade absently. "I like my mounts with a little fight."

Wash's eyes glint. "That so?" He grins up at Mal. Whatever lewd comment he's about to make is cut off when there's a light tapping on the door.

"Mal, honey, you alright?" His ma doesn't wait for an answer, after all, what could Mal possibly be up to this time of night, in his room alone? Mal can think of a few things, but he's glad that none of them are occurring to her. Though, maybe he wishes they had when she's standing in the doorway, staring at him and Wash, before Wash can move or hide or anything.

"Ma..." Mal starts but doesn't know where to go. His heart pounds, he can feel Wash's doing the same, and he drops his gaze away from hers. He doesn't want to see if she looks mad or disappointed. Pa would have been disappointed. All the fun of sneaking around is gone in one of his too fast heartbeats.

"Put something on, Mal, then come see me out in the kitchen. Hoban, you go on to your own room." She gives them a studying look before turning to walk out.

Mal nods, voice caught with the lump in his throat, but she's gone, the door slipping closed softly in her wake.

He pushes Wash off him and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He doesn't get up, though, dropping his head into his hands with a muttered "Cào."

Wash's hand presses hesitantly to his back and Mal fights the urge to shrug it off. Ain't Wash's fault. "Hey. Remember you can't do anything wrong in your mom's eyes, she probably just...wants to make sure you're being careful. That I'm not going to hurt you or something." Wash scoots a bit closer to press a kiss on Mal's shoulder. "Which I'm not, so you know."

Mal sighs, "I know," and gets to his feet. His ma is waiting on him. He tugs on the sleep pants that he hasn't bothered wearing and a threadbare old shirt. Leaves Wash watching him on his bed and steps out to meet his ma in the kitchen.

She's sitting at the head of the table waiting for him, glass of water held in one hand. He doesn't quite look at her as he sits in the next chair. He can hear the seconds tick by on the wall clock as he waits for her to speak first.

"How long've you been sneaking around with him?"

Mal shrugs a bit. "'Bout a month, I guess. Ma, I'm sorry-" He looks up to her but she shakes her head and stops him.

"You know I just want to see you happy." She waits until he nods that he understands. "But he's Alliance. Now I don't mind that myself. He seems like a fine boy, and I'd be the first to congratulate you and give you both a hug. But we both know his daddy ain't gonna see it the same way."

Mal snorts. He knows that. It never was worry for Mal's ma finding them so much as Wash's dad.

"And I don't want to see these folks pulling out and leaving us helpless because you're carrying on some tryst with the Major's son."

Mal bites his lip. He hadn't even thought of that. All through this, he'd been worried about being found out and being told to break it off. Exactly what was happening. But he'd never once thought how carrying on with Wash could affect the rest of his family.

He drops his head. "I'll talk to Wash."

His ma's arms circle his shoulder's. "I'm sorry, honey."

* * *

Wash is still there when Mal gets back to his room. He's dressed again, sitting on the edge of Mal's bed and he jumps to his feet when Mal comes back in. Mal only glances to him before he turns to shut the door. Wash doesn't approach when Mal stays with his back turned.

"Well...what'd she say?"

Mal licks his lips, purses them a moment before he turns around, gathering his resolve to face Wash. This is for his family and there's nothing more important. "That we're done. An' she's right."

"What? Gǒu pì." Mal gives him a stern look and Wash lowers his voice again. "That's crazy. You can't just-"

"Yeah, I can. I don't need your dad finding out and leaving my family high an' dry because I decided to fuck with his son."

"One. Fuck what my dad says. Two. You haven't fucked with me yet." Wash tries to grin but his humor falls flat this time. "Come on, Mal."

"Ain't happening. You were gonna be gone in two months anyway an' what were we gonna do then?" That's something he's thought on. What they were gonna do when Wash had to leave, and Mal's thought more than once on trying to convince Wash to stay with him. He doesn't think it would be so hard. Once again, it's the man's dad that gets in the way. As much as Wash tries to act like a rebel, he knows Wash would give into the Major and do exactly what was said in the end.

Wash sighs, Mal hears the irritation in it. He doesn't know what Wash expects him to do. "Fine. Whatever you want, Mal."

He doesn't watch as Wash stalks by him and out of the room.

Chinese Translations:  
Gǒu pì - bullshit/nonsense  
Cào - fuck


	7. Chapter 7

_**Part Two - Wash**_

**Chapter One**

Two weeks later and Mal hasn't said so much as five full sentences to him. Even the few things Mal has said have all been along the lines of 'fuck off'. Wash knows it's ridiculous. As much as he knows Mal, or rather Mal's mom, is right. If the Major ever found out about him and Mal, there'd be hell to pay and Wash wouldn't be the only one paying it. His dad might well pull operations out of Shadow faster than a gunship.

It lends a little more fuel to the fire of his dislike for the man.

That's what had started it all. He'd seen Mal and thought that this was the perfect way to tick his dad off, some teenage rebellion. He shakes his head at himself now for attempting to play stupid games. He hadn't even thought about the repercussions to anyone else.

He'd never have gone through with it, anyway, letting his dad know that he was sly, letting the Major think that he'd gotten attached to some back planet farmer. He'd wanted to play games with something he wouldn't even have been able to follow through on in the first place.

Everything had changed, the first time he kissed Malcolm Reynolds.

Wash stretches, arches his back as he balances on one of the big irrigation machines. It takes most of his attention and energy to keep the things in shape. The ground here is hard, it breaks the teeth off the drills after hours of continuous digging. It takes four men to lift on new drill heads and it takes an hour to replace them when it happens. The rest of the day is spent keeping parts tight and oiled, making sure that everything is working smoothly. Soon enough and water will be flowing out to the fields as other teams work on drilling down to underground wells.

It always leaves him a greasy mess by the end of the day. He's gotten used to it. Both the harder work and the hot sun. Just like he's gotten used to countryside and clean air. Cows and horses. Yeah, especially the horses, he's taken a bit of a shine to them. He hasn't been on Big Dog since Mal stopped talking to him. He's not sure if he should take the horse out on his own, or if he should even go into the barn. Half of that is because he's afraid to run into Mal.

It's happened more than once; them stumbling into each other despite efforts and, for a moment, there's this longing look on Mal's face. Wash is sure that he could walk up to Mal during those moments and kiss him. That Mal wouldn't complain. But they're always gone too fast and Wash misses his chance. Every time.

Wash tries to keep his distance instead. He tells himself that he's got to respect what Mal wants, but who is he really kidding? Mal's right and they both knew exactly what was going to happen. They're scheduled to be here another month and a half and his dad says work is going faster than expected. Might just be a couple of weeks, if even that. Hell, it might be a couple days, and they'll be headed back home to Londinium. Where Wash's studies and friends wait for him, all familiar and approved of by daddy.

Instead of hanging out with Mal, Wash tries sticking around the Alliance workers. He finds out within a day that he doesn't get along too well with them. They try to kiss up to him. He misses bantering with Mal or having his opinions shot down for being moronic. Mal lacks a bit of tact but then Wash has been told he's not much better.

Big Dog would make better company than the workers and Wash gives in, heading towards the barn. His dad stops him halfway.

"Hoban." Wash sighs and turns to wait for the Major to catch up with him, striding through the tall brown grass that Wash has been cutting a trail through. "We're pulling out early."

Wash shrugs like it doesn't matter but he can feel his heart drop. Despite how stupid he knows it is, how hurtful it could be to others, he'd hoped. Hoped to turn Mal around again and maybe explain it to his dad for real instead of play. That doing it that way could make it all turn out differently. "Sure. Sir. Got everything done? That irrigation ditch over at the Sampson farm still needs a final inspection, I thin-"

"Don't argue. We've got everything set up here and I'm sure they can handle any leftovers themselves. I've got my orders," and his dad's orders are Wash's orders, "Time to pack up and head back home. School starts soon for you and your mom wants to see you before you leave again."

Wash knows better than to question. He nods and the Major leaves him on his own without another word.

Wash sighs as he watches the Major walk away from him, heading down towards the ship.

Suddenly, Wash isn't quite so keen on heading down to the barn. If Mal is there, he knows he'll try and tell the man that he's leaving soon. And that Mal will look shocked for a moment, maybe there'll be another moment where, if Wash just took his chance, he could kiss Mal and things might look up. For a minute before Mal walked away from Wash again. The thing that really makes Wash want to turn around and just head back to the house to crawl into bed is that Mal might not look at him at all. Might not give Wash the chance to speak at all. The way he's been doing for the last two weeks and Wash is getting sick of the act.

The very least he needs to do is say goodbye to Big Dog.

The barn is empty when he gets there and the horses nicker at him which means Mal hasn't been around to feed them. Wash could wait, ambush Mal and force the man to listen to him. Maybe... He doesn't know. Maybe they could have one last night if Mal knew he'd be leaving in the morning or the next day. That could also be the stupid selfish kid in him talking again.

He kicks his foot against the ground as he walks up to Big Dog's stall. The old horse pricks his ears forward and shoves his nose into Wash's hand.

"Sorry, boy. I haven't got treats. Guess I could feed you, though, if you promise that Mal won't get ticked at me for it."

Big Dog doesn't answer him so Wash takes it as a yes and moves to get the allotted amount of hay to toss into Big Dog's manger. Water is next and, while he's at it, Wash goes through the other three horses as well.

It's not until he's nearly done that he hears someone clearing their throat behind him. It's angry, so he knows it's Mal without turning. He tosses the hay he's got into Sandy's stall before facing the man.

"What are you doing in here?"

Wash shrugs, once more like he's not bothered. "I got bored. And you were late with dinner, these guys were calling out to me." He tries a grin and it fails horribly, just like all his other ones have been doing lately.

"Thanks but I ain't needing your help."

Wash's patience snaps at Mal's dismissive tone. He throws his hands up in the air, spooking Sandy behind him. "Tianna, Mal! Quit being such a hundan!"

He's never yelled at Mal before and it's met with a wide-eyed look.

"What the hell is up with you, Mal? You ditch me and so you're the one acting like a shagua? You'll be glad to hear, then, that we're leaving. Done the work early so we're out of here and you won't have to worry about pretending to be a jackass just to keep yourself off of me."

As if Wash doesn't know that's exactly what's going on here and he's stepped up to Mal, pressed him back against the wall. His hand presses against Mal's chest but it's anger and the threat of violence that have it there, keeping Mal pinned back against the wall, instead of want.

Mal grits his teeth. "Back off, Wash. Ain't no point in this an' you know it."

"Screw you."

Wash shoves Mal once. The same instant Mal surges forward and Wash feels the force of the man's fist connecting with his jaw, stumbling him back a pace before tumbling him to the ground.

"Mal..." He stares up at Mal in surprise, palm cupping his jaw and annoyance shocked out of him.

Mal is standing over him, anger masking his face for a moment before it falters. The glare falls away and his lips part to take in a shaky breath. "Might be best if you don't sleep in the house tonight. Got yourself a big ship. Make use of it."

Mal turns on his heel and walks out, leaving Wash watching him from the dirt.

* * *

Wash takes Mal's advice and goes back to the ship. He's got a bunk there. The only reason they've been sleeping in the Reynolds' house, or so his dad says, is because it would be rude not to take the hospitality offered. His bunk in the ship is more comfortable. It's got all his things, and there's no spring that digs into his back if he rolls over the wrong way.

He'd still rather be in Mal's house. He'd rather be in Mal's bed. For the few hours every night, between everyone going to bed and everyone waking up. Whether they're sleeping or fooling around or talking, that's where he wants to be. He never would have started this, if he'd known where it would end up. But then, he'd never really expected to fall in love with Mal either.

Which he thinks is what's happened. He's fallen hard in love with a backwater farmer. Just how exactly does that happen? Especially one with a temper. And a fist of steel. He rubs at his jaw and he knows his smile is entirely out of place.

The ship is quiet when he walks on. The workers still bunk here but they turn in for early nights or head to the tavern in town. The guard at the ramp ignores him as he passes.

The belly of the ship is dark, except for the light that trickles down from the bridge, illuminating the stairs and catwalk. Wash frowns. There shouldn't be anyone up there, especially not at this time of night. He guesses it's just the Major setting up the new course, making sure all checks have been completed prior to take off. Curiosity itches at him, though, and curiosity has a habit of getting him into trouble, not that he ever learns from it. He heads with light steps up the walkway and, when he reaches the top, he can hear voices heading down the short catwalk to where he is. He crouches down on the stairs to eavesdrop.

"Everything is in place, Major?" Wash recognizes the voice of his dad's boss. He's been to dinner with them once or twice and his assessing gaze has always made Wash feel uncomfortable.

"Yes, sir. Took some doing, those things were never designed to let anyone play with them once they were up and running. But the terraforming equipment is fixed, we've got it set to blow in twelve hours. They should start feeling it fairly fast. They won't know what's happened and we'll be off this rock by first light."

"Excellent. It's the only way to deal with rebellion, Major. Shut it down before there's more than a ripple. We'll mark it off as an accident, these equipment malfunctions do happen."

"Yes, sir. I'll assume you have our cover story all ready to go."

A chuckle answers the Major's concerns. "Of course, Major."

Wash sneaks away when he's heard more than enough. More than he ever wanted to know.

He holds his breath as he walks down the stairs, trying to keep his steps light, but his legs shake. He tries not to look behind him when the urge to run takes over. He can't have heard that right. The twist of his stomach says differently and the words ring through his ears with startling finality. Equipment malfunctions. Shadow. i_Mal_/i.

He tries not to look behind him, he's down in the cargo bay now, the trip down the stairs feeling like it's taken a lifetime. He heads towards the ramp. There's the skitter of a shoe over grating behind him and his heart leaps up into his throat. A hand falls over his shoulder and he spins, savagely knocking it aside.

He's always resisted everything his dad has done. He just never knew he'd find an actual reason for it.

He leaps back when he comes face to face with another man, crying out weakly and even that echoes along the ship. He catches his breath for a long moment, waiting for the heavy falls of his dad's footsteps. He breathes out quickly when the sound doesn't come. There's just the man in front of him and the guard lifts his eyebrows in indifference.

"Fuck, Rudy. What the hell are you doing?"

"Wash!" the Major barks down at him from the catwalk and Wash jumps again. His turn to face the man and look up is slow, his heart thudding hard enough to hurt his chest and send blood roaring in his ears. He's half afraid of looking up and seeing a gun pointed at him. i_I know what you heard, son._/i Or maybe just his dad brandishing a thick black belt. "What are you doing on the ship, son?"

"I, uh..." Wash has to clear his throat to chase away the waver. "I came to take the hover for a spin."

"Leave it for now. Get to bed, we'll be saying our goodbyes in the morning and be rid of this business."

Wash nods, heart still racing, and turns to do as he's told before he can think on anything else.

* * *

Wash spends the night sitting on his bed, unsure what he should be doing. Mal's not going to believe a word he says. Wash isn't even sure if he believes. He had to have misunderstood. But no matter how he tries, he knows what the words he heard meant and he knows they can't mean anything else.

Wash didn't really understand it at first, Mal's reasons for not trusting the Alliance, but with this new revelation, he does. Like he understands that whatever he says, Mal's mom is going to side with her son who doesn't want to listen to a thing Wash has to say. Mal would probably think it's all about Wash trying to get back at his dad for some unknown slight.

Sure, his dad beat him. Took the belt to him and Wash has got a few permanent marks on his back from when he really messed it up and when the Major really lost his temper. Wash has always figured that was normal though, not something to hate the man for. He knows he's not the only kid with a hard ass Alliance officer for a dad. No one screwed around with these guys, not even their kids. Corporal punishment or something. Wash always liked it better than getting stuck in his room for hours on end, no way to entertain himself. His imagination would always get the better of him then, a lot like it has now.

Like what would happen if he didn't get to Mal in time and actually make the man listen to him. Make Mal see past his own tunnel vision and realize that it wasn't about just him and Wash, it was about the family that Mal was trying to protect in the first place. Protect from Wash's dad and the Alliance, which Wash gets now. It's his dad and the Alliance that are going to take out an entire planet unless Wash can do something about it. They'll all freeze to death, is what Wash's imagination supplies him with.

He needs to get to the terraforming equipment and fix whatever has been done.

He runs through the options. Going by his dad's words, the most obvious is an explosion. A timer set to blow the equipment after they leave. Without the terraformers running, the planet will suffocate. The atmosphere will break down. Everything on it will die. Mal will die.

Wash isn't going to let that happen.

He's not sure how long he waits in his bunk, perched anxiously on the edge of his bed. Hours. Long enough that he's sure the Major is asleep. Wash doesn't want to think of him as dad anymore, he doesn't want to know how someone that brought him up could do this to anyone. Let alone a million anyones. Let alone Mal.

Even with the words that sound through his head - i_An accident. Equipment malfunctions._/i - he wants to ignore it. Go back to Londinium and forget the drama that's happening here. Which would mean forgetting Mal, the other people that he's met here that have treated him so well. It's something he can't do. Prove to Mal that everyone in the Alliance is exactly what Mal thinks.

The ship's time - Londinium time - says it's late morning when Wash makes up his mind and leaves the bunk for what's going to be the last time, careful to barely breathe as he sneaks out to the cargo bay. He doesn't even wear his boots, putting them on only when he steps into the hover car. He breathes out when he's sitting in the driver's seat, hands on the stick. He's made it this far, all he has to do is turn over the engine, thankful for the silence of Alliance technology.

He's still not sure if he can do this.

He turns the skiff on and the high beams flash. His dad is standing right in front of them.

"Wo de mah."

He knows he's about to get a taste of that belt when the Major hauls the door open and physically drags Wash from the vehicle.

* * *

Chinese Translations:

Hundan - bastard/jerk  
Shagua - idiot/foolish

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Two**

They're taking off in twenty minutes and Wash is locked in his bunk. His back is on fire, but all it does is drive his anger on. It's all it ever did.

He tried reasoning:

"There's got to be another way, you can't do this. Please, dad."

"I have orders, son."

"Then don't listen to them!"

But Wash can see it, the Major isn't even hearing him. Blindly thinking that this is the thing to do, that whatever is going on, it's worth the life of a planet. The Major doesn't apologize, not even for a second does Wash see regret cross his face, he doesn't even try to deny what he's doing and save face in front of his son.

"You'll understand, some day. Might be that you'll even come to agree with me. These people...they're not a part of our society and this is what happens to criminals. That's essentially all they are, Wash. Smugglers and thieves. Outcasts that chose to be that way. We gave them the choice, son, and this is what they chose."

What have these people done that's so bad? What could Mal's mother have done that's _so_ bad?

"They started a war," the Major answers that question, a harsher blow than the ones from the belt.

A war. That's what Wash is thinking over now.

Wash pays attention to what's going on with the outer planets, he's always been interested. Been curious. Wanting to know what it's like outside of Londinium, wanting to go there to see for himself. It's the one thing he thinks he's ever done that's made the Major proud, the decision that he wanted to be a pilot. He wanted to fly and see the 'verse. It wasn't until the Major had found out that Wash had no intention of joining the Alliance military, becoming a captain or maybe a Major himself, that his dad changed his mind.

Wash doesn't want to fight. He wants to be free to explore. With his Alliance pilot's license he'd have been able to travel wherever he wanted, his access never restricted.

Through all the hours on the Cortex, he's never heard stirrings of a war. Of any type of uprising. He thinks that if this plan is allowed to go ahead there will be. That the Rim planets will balk, that they won't be cowed like the Major seems to think. Like the Alliance seems to think but Wash doesn't go for that. Not if even a quarter of them are like his Mal.

_His_ Mal, who isn't going to be around for long if Wash doesn't get out of here.

Wash pries off the panel for the bunk's locking system. It may be locked from the outside but Wash knows how to override that. He's picked up more than a few tricks, stuck down here or in a ship like it, or in his room with nothing to do but play with wires. He's just never actually crossed the line into leaving before. He only ever overrides the locks, then locks them up tight again. His father never knows and all it ever was was something to pass the time. Not today, though. This time, Wash overrides the lock and the indicator light flashes green. He can push the hatch open and step out of his bunk.

He looks around to make sure he hasn't been noticed, then pulls the bunk hatch closed carefully behind him. With everyone supposedly on the ship, Rudy shouldn't be on guard anymore. What's lucky is just as equally unlucky, though. The ship is going to be full, Wash isn't sure how he's going to sneak off.

He heads down the hall towards the cargo bay. He thinks he's got fifteen minutes. There's no one to greet him or call the alarm on him until he gets to the hall entrance of the cargo bay.

It's one of the workers. There's a second where Wash stares at the man, breath caught, waiting for him to raise the alarm. But the man just grins.

"Hoban. You seen the Major? We're looking to get this heap off the ground."

Wash nods his head. Here's a stroke of luck and he seizes it. "He's just back there. Give me five and I'll send him up to the bridge."

"Thanks, kid."

Wash nods and forces himself to return the smile. He doesn't even remember the man's name now but it doesn't matter. He waits for the man to turn back to the bridge and then jogs through the cargo bay. The ramp is up but the small door is still open and Wash steps outside, casual as he can. No one stops him. Now his luck just has to hold, the Major can't notice he's gone or he won't take off. He can already hear the whine of the engines warming up.

Wash feels like he's on a suicide mission as he bolts from the ship, towards the irrigation ditches. The longest one is maybe a hundred yards from the ship and it's the only place he can see to hide in the otherwise flat fields. Useless ditches that won't ever fill with water, ditches that were only ever there to deceive, but they might turn out to be his only chance now.

On second thought, as he skids into the ditch, down the steep slope to the bottom, rocks and dirt sliding down along with him, he thinks a suicide mission is exactly what this is. He catches sight of the terraformers as he dives into the ditch. They're huge, off in the distance, seen as clearly as the mountains that are off in the other direction. If they explode, the backlash from it will take out this town. And Wash plans on heading straight towards it. Without even knowing how much time he has left or if he can diffuse whatever the Major did to it.

First, he's got to try and warn Mal. Tell him to get as far away as possible. Take his mom and everyone, and get over to that city, Blackie. The city should be fine in the immediate explosion. An explosion from the terraformers takes out one small farming town. The planet dies over the course of a few days. Maybe a week. However long it takes, the end results won't change.

He hunkers down in the ditch, hidden from view. He can't see the ship but he can hear the big engines cycle through their final start up. They blow up air and dirt, send rocks tumbling down the edges and over Wash. He still doesn't move, closing his eyes to the dust.

The ship has to leave, he repeats to himself, a silent mantra or prayer. The engines roar, the first upthrust. The air bursts outwards as the engines burn and Wash can see the ship, rising up, a slow hulk. It's not until it reaches a few hundred feet altitude that it looks as graceful as it is. It does a turn and, moments later, another shock wave of air from the engine hits the dirt and the ship is off.

Wash closes his eyes and lets out a long breath that turns into laughter. The Major thinks he's still locked in his bunk, the last time his dad had checked on him was twenty minutes ago. By the time he figures out that twenty minutes was more than long enough for Wash to escape, it'll be too late. Wash will have either revealed the truth or been killed in the explosion.

The thought sobers him. He needs to act fast. He scrambles up the incline of the ditch, slipping when dirt and rocks come loose. He scrapes a hole into the knee of his cargos and curses the rest of the way up at the sting to his knees and hands as he pulls himself out and the sharp rocks dig in.

"What the hell are you doing, Wash?"

Wash loses his handhold and almost tumbles back down at the voice right in front of him. His wrist is caught before it can happen, though, and he looks up to catch sight of Mal. He feels like laughing again, and he knows he's grinning.

"Mal. Oh, thank god."

Mal grabs hold of his other wrist and gives a heave to pull Wash the rest of the way over the bank. Wash's feet dig into the loose dirt to help push himself up and he ends up sprawled over Mal's lap, both of them laid out over the ground. The laughter bubbles up and Wash can't stop it.

"You lost your gorramn mind?"

"Near enough."

Mal is looking at him, bemused but not angry. Wash sees his chance. Sees it and lets it pass one more time.

He pushes himself up off Mal and Mal follows him. "What are you doing here, Mal?"

Mal looks uncomfortable, running a hand up through his hair and giving a shrug. He won't quite look at Wash. "Wanted to apologize. Thought I'd catch you before y' left, didn't wanna just...let y' go without saying something. Guess I didn't need to worry." Mal finally eyes him. "Wash, what the hell is going on?"

"I overheard my dad talking to another officer, one back home. They said they were going to blow the terraforming equipment."

He tries not to be impatient as Mal studies him. The sound of the ship has long since faded and there's an eerie calm that settles everywhere. Wash isn't used to it, not even here. There's always people about or animals. Back home, there's machines. Here, there's wind but he can't hear that, can only see the effects of it rippling through the tall dead grass. He looks back to Mal when the man starts to speak, voice slow and heartbreakingly unsure.

"They can't."

"They can," Wash insists. He's not going to get another chance at making Mal listen and fights to keep his words from launching into a hysterical rant. "And we need to tell everyone. Those terraformers are too close, they need to get out of the blast range."

Mal shakes his head and Wash has to grab him by the shoulders to get Mal to actually focus on him. The truth of it is sinking in too fast and he can see Mal wanting to push him away and call him a liar.

"Get back to the town, ride Sandy out of here." Wash shoves him and Mal stumbles back a step. Wash turns, ready to run for the terraformer when Mal grabs hold of his arm.

"You too. Whatever the hell is going on, no way I'm lettin' you run towards it."

"We don't stop those things going, then this planet dies, Mal."

The pause is heavy. Mal stares at him and Wash can't tell what's going through his mind. The only times he can read Mal is when the man wants him to. One thing Wash does know is that they don't have the time to be wasting and he can feel the panic edging in, high and fast.

It's minutes that drag by before Mal snaps out of it, his hand still hard on Wash's arm as he drags Wash with him. "Let it. Ain't loosin' you."

Now isn't the time to feel a rush of pleasure. Not the time to want to smile and pull Mal to him and kiss him like he's been wanting to do the last two weeks. To call Mal an idiot and confess how much he loves him.

He keeps it to himself, lets the fact he follows Mal talk enough for him. Mal swings up on to Sandy and Wash hauls himself up behind Mal. A sharp kick and Mal is yelling at Sandy to move. Wash has to grip his arms around Mal's middle to keep from being tossed as Sandy bolts forward, fast as Mal can make her, back towards the house.

They don't get even a quarter of the way.

The shock wave hits them before the sound does. It slams into Wash's back, shoves him against Mal and a second later Sandy is taken from under them. Wash can feel as she stumbles and falls. He can hear something break and a second later is when the sound of the explosion reaches them. Wash expects to feel the heat scorching him next, but the force of the wave hurls them over the edge of the ditch they'd been running next to.

He's lost hold of Mal. He hits the ground hard enough it drives all the air from his lungs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Three**

Wash wakes with the overwhelming urge to be sick. It takes him a moment before he realizes this is because he's being shaken hard enough to make his head swim and stomach clench. He bats ineffectually at the hand on his shoulder, groaning when it feels like his arm is moving through quicksand and only increases the nauseating sensation.

"Wash?"

He tries to talk, to even just say 'Yeah?' but it comes out as another moan, short and high-pitched. He tries to move and he thinks his head might have rolled to the side. At least the shaking has stopped and that settles his stomach for a moment. Just long enough so that when he feels himself being suddenly dragged into Mal's arms, he can push back the returning urge to vomit. Or pass out, when even behind closed eyes his vision swims.

He leans heavily against Mal's chest, Mal's arms holding him there and he can feel the sharp breaths Mal takes puffing over the side of his neck, stirring up hairs and making him shiver. Something has happened and he can't quite figure it out. Not until he forces his eyes to open and the first thing he sees when his vision clears is Sandy, not ten feet from them and just as sure, not moving. She took the brunt of it, her neck isn't quite-

"Mal?" He quickly looks up, tries to question, and it dawns on him that the reason he still can't see so well is because there's blood in his eyes. He lifts his hand, it's shaking, to wipe it away. "Happened to us? Sandy..."

"We gotta get up," Mal says instead of answering his questions. Like Wash can't figure it out anyway and he nods his head which makes it pound. He hadn't noticed how much it hurt before.

Mal's arms leave him and he sways himself up to his knees. It's the first time he gets a good look at the man kneeling in front of him. Mal is scraped and bruised from being thrown down the side of the ditch. Wash imagines that he's not much better off.

It's not what really catches his attention, though. Mal's hands are resting over his knees, bracing himself for the final push to his feet. Three fingers on his left hand are bent the wrong way. Wash feels his mouth going dry, reaching out to run his own fingers along the back of Mal's hand, eyes wide. The touch makes the rest of the world feel still around them.

Mal looks down, like he's noticing his hand for the first time or he's just forgotten about it entirely. "Oh. Yeah, uh... Cao. Wash, gonna need you to..."

Wash nods quickly, at the same time his hand jerks away. He can't do this, Mal is insane, asking him to do this when Wash's stomach is still rolling. He knows he's going to anyway, it's been clear the last few hours that he's going to do anything for Mal. "Yeah. Sure. Okay, just... What do I do?"

Mal lifts his injured hand. "Just pull. You'll hear it...'til they snap back into place. It'll be fine."

Mal really doesn't sound too worried so Wash nods and takes a breath to steady himself. He grasps at Mal's wrist with one hand, tighter when Mal pulls against him. "Sounds like you've had this done before."

Mal nods. "Once. Fell out of a rutting tree. My pa, he did it for me then, di yu, I screamed so-" He cuts off with a whine this time when Wash snaps the first finger back in place. "Keep-" Wash gets the next two over with just as quickly.

"Christ, I'm gonna be sick..." Wash wipes his hand over the back of his mouth but Mal laughs and squeezes his straight-again hand weakly over Wash's shoulder, carefully keeping the broken fingers straight. It's not a full laugh, on the side of desperate and thin. Wash smiles back anyway and they help each other struggle to their feet.

Mal gives a parting glance to Sandy and then they're struggling up the steep ditch.

The first thing they see is the terraforming equipment, spewing out great black billows of smoke, thick enough that they can't see the fire they know is there. The fields around it are in flames, they can make out the wisps of it, the red embers.

Neither of them want to turn around.

Mal does first. There's fire back at the house, as well, what's left of it; an internal explosion, Wash thinks the gas main, knocked out during the shock wave. It's a lot easier to think on that than-

"Ma..."

Mal is off, feet pounding the ground nowhere near as fast as Sandy could have carried them.

* * *

Fences are knocked down, letting out the cattle that have managed to get through. Both the main house and workers' house are battered. Walls taken down. Mal's house is the one that's burning.

The farm is right in the middle of the debris field. Pieces of twisted metal, bits and pieces off the terraformer that had flown this far, it all litters the area. It isn't a gas explosion that took the house down. There's a large piece of metal that went right through the wall, covered in the oil that runs the machines.

Wash is out of breath as they reach it. Mal never holds up, he doesn't pause at the flames that lick around the boards of the house. He shoulders the door open and plumes of black smoke rush out to choke him.

"Ma!"

Wash can hear him yelling. He has to take a few gasping breaths of clear air before he can push himself to follow Mal in. He can barely see in here and the smoke stings his eyes, makes his head swim again as he tries to take careful shallow breaths. He follows the sound of Mal tossing stuff around and calling out.

Over the sounds of that, he can hear hissing. He's in the kitchen and he stops. Tilts his head to the side and the sudden panic nearly blinds him. The gas line.

"Mal!"

He rushes forward, Mal's still yelling and it's the only way Wash finds him. When he does, he grabs Mal's arm, jerking him back. Mal stumbles against him, weak in his own desperate fright.

"We have to get out of here." Wash is already hauling Mal back towards the door. He gets a few shaken steps before Mal realizes what he's doing and hauls his arm back, stopping Wash fast enough that he stumbles.

"My mom's in here!"

"And that gas line is going to blow!" Wash yells back, finger pointing for all the good that will do, towards the kitchen, the break in the line, that he can still hear, even if that's only in his mind.

"Then get out. I ain't leavin'." Mal jerks his arm from Wash's grip and Wash doesn't have a choice but to follow, though the urge to run out of the house takes him like a physical itch between his shoulder blades.

"Mal," he tries to grab Mal's attention again but Mal ignores him.

They're at his mom's bedroom and Mal shoves that door open. It's empty and Mal looks for a moment anyway before turning helplessly back to Wash. "Where is she?"

Wash shakes his head. She's not in the house and that's good enough for him right now. He grabs hold of Mal's wrist and starts pulling him towards the door again. "I don't know. She's not in the house and we shouldn't be either." His voice rasps and it's hard not to cough. He doesn't know how Mal is still on his feet with all the gasping he's doing.

Mal doesn't put up so much fight this time. His steps stagger as he follows Wash doggedly through the house. Wash doesn't stop dragging him until they're out, able to drag in clean breaths, and even then, he keeps going until they're at the barn. Where Mal's legs give out and he collapses to his knees, sucking in air and now Mal's coughing, spitting into the dirt and looking up at Wash. The tears track clearly through the dirt covering his face.

"Where is she?"

Wash shakes his head again. A look around shows the place is eerily like a ghost farm. The best Wash can come up with is that everyone is hiding in the aftermath of the explosion, keeping sheltered from the debris that rained down just a few minutes earlier.

He's proven right when he spots one of the ranch hands, hidden away behind a stack of firewood. Wash waves his arms to grab the man's attention.

"Hey, hey!"

Mal's gaze snaps to where Wash's is and he lets out a bark of laughter, of relief. "It's Glen." Mal waves as well and Glen finally notices them.

Glen makes his way to them, joining Mal in collapsing on his knees when he gets there. He's dirty, there's a scratch across one cheek, but otherwise he looks fine.

"Glen, where the hell are the others?"

"Scattered. When this shit started fallin' out of the air. What the hell happened? Looked like the ruttin' terraformers went up from where we were standin'."

"That is what happened," Wash answers. He's looking around again, trying to catch sight of the others. He spots a couple and they come over when he waves to them. He's not sure where to go from there. He knows they need to find everyone, get them all together but when a wave of nausea hits him, he ends up down on his knees by Mal. He has to hang his head and wait for the world to still around him again.

"Where's my ma? You seen her, Glen? Where was she?"

Wash is slow to lift his head, scan the area once more, while Glen says he doesn't know. She was outside. He didn't see if she made it somewhere safer.

Wash thinks she didn't.

They hadn't even noticed her through tall grass and the metal debris that's thick right in that area. Smart lady, she was headed for the barn where the debris wasn't hitting. She just couldn't move fast enough.

"Mal." Wash's voice is cracked and weak.

Mal looks to where he is and Wash watches, feeling that surreal wave come over him again, wading through that quicksand and too slow to stop Mal bolting to his feet, nearly throwing himself to the ground by her body. Wash doesn't need to get close to know that's what she is now. He can see it from here. He can hear it when Mal takes a single sobbing breath before composing himself again.

Wash is still traveling through time in slow motion, getting the strength he feels he's lost for good to push himself to his feet. Mal is already back. His hand is fisted into Wash's shirt and Wash is pulled up so fast, his vision grays. He doesn't know where Mal gets the strength, but he's being tossed back into the planks of the barn.

"You son of a bitch. This is your fault!" Mal's fists drive into him. His face, his chest, his stomach and it drives Wash back to his knees. "You brought this down on us. Gorramn Alliance. Never shoulda let you off that ship, shoulda shot you like I wanted."

Mal's foot drives into Wash's gut and he's finally retching. Bent double on his hands and knees, unable to breathe. The ranch hands are yelling at Mal, grabbing his arms to haul him off Wash. Wash's eyes sting, clenched shut, as a hand presses to his back, this one comforting, but he knows it's not Mal.

"Take it easy, son. Get a few breaths, there you go."

He gasps them in. Through a closed off throat and lungs that ache. It's Glen at his side and Glen's hand at his arm helps him to kneel back. When Wash can look, Mal is back over by his mom. The other two ranch hands stand between them, keeping a wary eye on them both.

It's only minutes before Mal gets to his feet again, back of his hand dragging across his eyes. He doesn't look at Wash, focusing on the ranch hands. "Get moving. Scour the area, bring anyone that's alive here to the barn." He gives them a stern look when they don't move and it gets them going. He doesn't look at Wash at all. "Wash, you get those horses saddled up. Ma shong."

Wash isn't even sure he can get up but Mal isn't waiting on him. He joins the others in the search for more; Wash overhears him instructing them to keep some distance from the house. Breathing deep, Wash braces himself against the barn and hauls himself up. He sways but keeps his feet. He can feel the fresh bruises Mal just gave him, they bring out the pain of the ones he got falling down the ditch. His head throbs worse than ever.

He makes his way into the barn, hand still pressed to the wall, but by the time he gets inside he feels steadier, a little more like he can do this. The three remaining horses inside all look spooked. He talks to them lowly as he approaches Kitty's stall.

"Whoa, whoa, easy."

It takes him too long just to get one horse ready to go. The sweat drips into his eyes, traces of blood along with it. His fingers find and press the gash across his forehead. It goes straight into his hairline and just feeling tells him that it needs stitches, and he gets scared that maybe he's going to bleed out or maybe he's hit his head hard enough to leave brain damage or a dozen other things. He tells his mind to shut the hell up and moves on to Big Dog's stall.

By this time, another ranch hand comes in, Wash can't try to think of his name, and helps get the other two horses set to go. They lead the horses out and Wash is greeted with the sight of fifteen people. Fifteen that made it out, out of forty.

Mal looks to him and the other hand sharply as they bring the horses out. Wash has to lean a little against Big Dog and he can feel the horse bracing against his weight to keep him up.

"There ain't enough horses so I want you all to stay here, while we go back into town. Might have to head all the way to Blackie but we'll send help back for you. Glen, you're gonna come with Wash an' me."

"Mal, I don't think-" Wash starts but Mal's look has him cutting off with a swallow.

"Y' wanna argue with me, Wash? You're comin'. You're gonna march right into that place an' tell 'em what you an' your god damned Alliance have done. Or I'm gonna be counting you useless an' putting a bullet in you. We have an understanding?"

Wash grits his teeth but nods. Mal's letting Wash read him now and Wash knows without doubt that Mal isn't bluffing. The ranch hands get it too, they shift uncomfortably, and Glen steps forward to take Kitty's reins from Wash's hand. They mount up and Mal leads the way down to the road.

* * *

They get halfway to town before they're met by the sheriff and a few locals.

Wash might have a fondness for Big Dog, but he's glad to get off the horse and allowed onto the mule the sheriff has come out here with. It's still not a smooth ride but it's better. Faster. They go straight to the small hospital and the Sheriff calls in better transport from Blackie.

The town's hospital is more like a large house. The doctor reminds Wash more of an old time midwife, the type he's read about in his studies of Earth-that-was. She puts him and Mal in beds across from each other. Wash is relieved to see that Mal passes out almost as soon as his head hits the pillows.

The midwife/doctor tells Wash he was probably riding on adrenaline. Wash would comment if he weren't busy passing out himself, finally able to let the exhaustion take him and sweep him under.

By the time he wakes again, the room is dark. Their door is shut and the only light is what trickles in from the crack under it. He feels better. Weighted down but that's just the bandages, he thinks after a moment. Wound around his head and his ribs. He's clean, too, even if he wakes with a foul taste in his mouth.

Someone's been considerate enough to leave a couple glasses of water on the nightstand that separates his bed from Mal's, and he reaches over to grab one, drinking deeply. It helps some, wakes him up. He's not entirely sure if that's a good thing.

His eyes have adjusted as much as they're going to to the dark and he looks across. He gets a bit of a shock to find that Mal's been watching him.

"Hey," he greets in a whisper. He doesn't expect Mal to say anything at all so when the soft greeting is returned his eyes widen. He can hear the grief in Mal's voice even with that one word. It's replaced all the anger. Wash has to try, even if it leads to him getting rebuffed, even if it leads to Mal's fists again. "Come over here."

He lifts the blanket, and Mal actually comes.

Wash doesn't even need to pull Mal close, Mal does it on his own, arms wrapping around Wash's waist. Wash runs his fingers through Mal's hair, cups the back of his head and Mal gives into the gentle pressure, lowering his head down to Wash's chest, letting Wash cradle Mal against him. It's them in their own little world again, a far better one than that ditch and Mal's broken fingers.

"I'm sorry, Mal. I tried, tianna, I really tried." Did everything he could and that hadn't been enough.

Mal doesn't respond and Wash takes that silence as the hint to be quiet himself. He rubs his hand over Mal's back instead and realizes after a long while that Mal has fallen asleep again. Wash feels the bite of tears at his eyes but keeps them held back. Mal can cry, he has the right. Wash doesn't and one of them needs to stay strong. Though Mal has proved himself the stronger of them, anyway. Took hold of all of them and told them what was going to happen next. Got them organized and moving, where all Wash had wanted to do was curl up on the ground and give in for a few hours.

He presses a kiss to Mal's hair, rests his cheek against the top of Mal's head, and falls asleep again as well. The next time he wakes, Mal is still sleeping and he can hear someone else moving around in the room with them.

His eyes snap open, his arms tighten protectively around Mal. He'd have bolted upright if Mal wasn't comfortably pinning him to the bed. He relaxes when he sees that it's only the midwife, remaking Mal's bed. He blushes a little and looks down at the man cuddled into his arms. He hopes everyone is as understanding as Mal's ma was. Though he thinks this entire town just might be. Only a month and a half and he can see it, in the way people accepted him, Alliance or not, and treated him with respect. Something he usually gets, but here he thinks it's from more than just the position he holds as a Major's son.

The midwife smiles and confirms his thoughts. "How are you feeling, honey?"

"Better, I guess. Thank you, uh..."

She straightens from making Mal's bed. "Mrs. McKnight. Allison." She steps around the bed and holds her hand out for Wash to take. It's trembling.

It takes Wash a second to unwind his own arm from Mal and shake her hand. "Hoban."

"You're the Alliance boy. I thought you'd all left."

Wash nods. He doesn't want to explain. That his dad is a ruthless killer and Wash ran away too late to do any good. "I stayed."

She gives a conspiratorial glance down to Mal. "I can see why." And it makes Wash blush again.

The talking stirs Mal and Wash looks down as the man takes a deep breath, his eyes slow to open and even then, they just stare forward at Wash's bandaged chest. Wash almost forgets Allison's presence to smile down at Mal, running his fingers through the man's hair again. It stirs Mal into looking up at him and giving a jaw cracking yawn. Mal even smiles back at him and Wash swears his heart flips.

They both look around to a tapping on the door, Allison following their gaze as well. "I hate to break up the moment." It's the Sheriff. "But we need to get you two to Blackie."

It's like being doused with a bucket of ice water. Smiles vanish, along with any thoughts of maybe staying in bed the whole day, cuddling and nursing injuries. Mal nods, giving a "Yes, sir" and the Sheriff leaves after telling them that they have five minutes.

Allison brings them fresh clothes and Wash follows Mal regretfully out of the bed to get dressed. The Sheriff is back to collect them once five minutes go by. On the dot, Wash thinks, and he's only just stepping from the small bathroom when the Sheriff is there to usher them off down the stairs.

Out on the streets, the heavy sense of urgency hits them. There are people everywhere, in the streets and at their houses, in the driveways. They're carrying bags or boxes, tossing them into beat up mules or into the saddlebags of horses. Wash has been to town only a few times and he's never seen this many people. Everyone looks scared, everyone is in a hurry.

The Sheriff leads them over to another mule. Better than the one he came to greet them with the first time. This one, Wash thinks, could get them to Blackie within an hour.

Wash pays attention when Mal asks the Sheriff a question, turning his gaze on the man instead of the muted panic he can see around them. "Sir, what's going on?"

The Sheriff pauses, mid-step up onto the mule. "Everyone's headed for Blackie. There's emergency ships stationed there and at a few other cities around the planet." He takes a long pause before letting his breath out as a sigh. "We weren't ready for something like this."

Mal shakes his head but Wash doesn't need the Sheriff to keep going. Suddenly he understands the tremble to the midwife's hands, to her voice, and the worried lines around her eyes. He stares at the Sheriff as he explains it to Mal. He can feel a dizziness at the back of his head that isn't from getting hit. If he looks up, the clouds are dark and rolling. "Atmosphere's breaking down. Without the terraformers to keep it stable. But...that should take a week. Two, even."

The Sheriff shakes his head. "Maybe out on your Core planets where things weren't so bad to start with. Place like Shadow, though... People are starting to feel the changes already. There's been two major earthquakes reported. People are already dying. Less than twenty four hours an' there's not gonna be anything left on this planet."

Mal is staring between the two of them. His mouth is open. He shakes his head slowly. "No. Can't kill an entire planet." He's met with the stark look of the Sheriff and Wash can't quite meet Mal's gaze when it's turned on him. "Well, we got the escape ships, right?" Mal demands.

"We can't...evacuate an entire planet, Mal. Shadow ain't set up for it. We don't have enough ships an' even if we did, everyone's so spread out, they wouldn't make it before the atmosphere dried up. The ship'll take those that can. Which is one reason why we gotta get moving." Wash feels the spotlight move over to him and locks his knees to stop himself taking a step back. "An' you're gonna be telling everyone exactly what happened here."

"Sir."


End file.
